Chapter 5 Puppet Master
“I’m so sorry for your loss, Senator.”
Giving a bland look to the woman in front of me, I take her hand and say a quiet “thank you”, as I have many times over the last few hours.
Did any of the people who showed up for the funeral care about my son, or even know his name? Of course not, but this is the game we play. Not just those who live in the shadows, but the public eye is full of half truths and fake smiles painted on even faker faces.
The whole song and dance is as tiring as it is invigorating, and if it wasn't for the ultimate end goal, I would have burned them all to the ground a long time ago. But, as Kieran so helpfully reminded me, the best game to win is one the losers didn't even know they were playing.
The boy may have been idealistic, and a failure in his personal life, but he did have some good ideas.
Which is why killing him was a shame. But I couldn't justify his many fuckups any longer. Not if I want to prove I am the best choice to lead, not only the Dowing Family, but over every territory—first in this city, then the state, and then…the entire Eastern seaboard.
Reporters are waiting outside the cemetery gates, but we ignore them as we slip into the car.
We've said all that needs to be said for now.
Until all the pieces are in place, neither Cecily nor myself will speak to the press.
The next steps need to be perfectly executed, otherwise it'll all fall apart around us.
As soon as the limo door closes, Cecily moves as far away from Lachlan as possible.
Biting my tongue is hard. The reprimand that she cannot allow the facade to slip, even in private, is right there, but I hold back.
Today is supposed to be a sad affair, so I’ll save the lecture on remembering to practice the deception for tomorrow.
“I need to duck out of the reception early,” Cecily says, her attention on her phone.
I stare at my daughter until the weight of it forces her to look up. “You know better. What will people think?”
She has the decency not to roll her eyes as she crosses her legs and meets my gaze.
“I couldn’t care less what some strangers who are only there for clout may think of me.
You gave me a task, and I need to see it through.
We have Emilio and Roman right where we want them, and if we want to make any progress in this, we need to get started.
We have two-thirds of their ‘Council’. We need the last one to complete the set.
Though, I do believe we can get Carter Amato, or De Luca—whatever he’s calling himself—to cave, if we show we’re not messing around.
That’s where Tom fucked up when he had Allesandro and Cristian.
He didn’t show the Families the danger the Bosses were in. I’m not a jackass.”
I consider what she’s saying, and she isn’t wrong.
Politics are messy, it doesn’t matter if they’re legal or illegal ones.
The balancing act to keep up our public appearance, and do what needs to be done…
“This is why you’re the one who lived,” I tell her quietly.
“Fine. Make a scene at the wake, it’ll look as if you’re too grief stricken to stick around for the whole event. Your fiancé can escort you out.”
“Thank you, sir.”
“Do not stoop to their level,” I caution her. “Or Tom’s. Make it a lasting impression, but leave some mystery for them. A warning of more to come, should they not comply with what we want.”
“Understood. I’ll make sure Carter, and the rest of the Family, know we are not to be underestimated.”
I give her a nod as she smiles, the corners of her mouth tipping up in a genuine grin.
“I look forward to watching the footage.”
Cecily laughs. “You’ll be the only recipient who is.”
I hum in agreement, and we pass the rest of the ride in silence. Cecily works on her phone, I’m assuming organizing everything she needs for the torment of our guests. And I sit back in my seat, some of the stress falling off my shoulders, knowing we are this close to winning the game.
Victory has never tasted sweeter.